


Death Plays Dogcatcher.

by BarPurple



Series: Two Horsemen of Various Apocalypses [3]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Magic, Mild Language, Spells Gone Wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5453069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bloody wizards! They just couldn't leave the fabric of reality alone for five minutes could they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Plays Dogcatcher.

Had Rincewind been willing to spare any brain power to the matter he would have been impressed by the way Sir Samuel was keeping pace with him, but that thought had nothing to do with powering his legs away from the danger, so Rincewind didn’t think it.

Sam Vimes was running for his life along his streets. Gods, he’d missed this. He dragged the wizard into Elsewhere Alley and leant against the wall panting for breath.

“Why have we stopped?”

Rincewind had his normal tone of put upon weariness under laid with just a touch of panic. Vimes actually liked Rincewind, almost felt sorry for him the way Ridcully had dumped this job on him. The Archchancellor had obviously taken a page out of Vetinari’s book. Rincewind had been promoted into this mess. Poor bastard.

“This is where we spring the trap. Detritus has cleared every house and shop on the street and the ones on either side.”

Rincewind looked impressed.

“How did he manage to persuade people to leave?”

“The good citizens were happy to help the, no I can’t say that with a straight face. Detritus made it clear that they were free to stay and be eaten by a huge slobbering monster if they wanted.”

Rincewind gave him a wry smile.

“Did Detritus mention to them the state of the cattle this thing has eaten?”

Vimes shrugged. He had in fact made it very clear to Detritus that he should mention that little fact in graphic detail.

“It is an unfortunate fact that Detritus is not my most tactful officer.”

There was a howl from the street and Vimes just managed to grab hold of Rincewind collar before the man got up to full running speed. He lowered the skinny wizard back to his feet, but kept a tight hold. 

“That’s on our side.”

“Oh that’s reassuring.”

 

In the middle of Goosegate a sleek blonde wolf was cautiously approaching the hound. It wasn’t often that Angua meet a dog that was bigger than her these days. Vimes had bluntly pointed out this thing had to be a dog of some sort, if only because horses didn’t bark and cock a leg at lampposts. The stink of this thing was repulsive when she was in human form, but now as a wolf she could feel a migraine coming on. She blinked and tried to ignore the colours of rot and decay that were hitting her nose in force and focus on the job she had to do.

The troll officers who had moved into position at the entrances of the many alleys watched as Sergeant Angua barked at the hound. Trolls don’t share the in-built fear of werewolves that humans have. What’s there to fear from something furry that would break its fangs if it tried to bite you? The barks and growls being exchanged by the canines in front of them were causing a reaction, somewhere in their rocky souls an unused sense was trying to make the non-existent hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. Several of them felt a grandmother’s funeral coming on if they got out of this alive.

The blonde wolf padded away from the monster hound and disappeared into Elsewhere Alley. Rincewind, who was in possession of a full working set of human fears, whimpered as the wolf sat on its haunches in front of Vimes. He boggled a bit as the wolf raised a paw in a salute and then shook its head.

“No good, hey? It was worth a try. Thank you sergeant, back to the watch house then.”

Rincewind’s eyes swivelled and followed the wolf as it lopped along the alley. That was when he saw the figure watching them from a doorway. His magically ability might be measured on a negative scale, but Rincewind recognized a supernatural being when he saw one.

“Good afternoon gentlemen, how goes the dog catching?”

Vimes’ head whipped around at the sound of the strange voice.

“Who the hell are you?”

“If you set foot into that street there is a high chance you will die. So who do you think I am?”

Vimes frowned angrily. He rolled a copper’s eye over the man, taking in the expensive, yet strange cut of his clothes, the confidence that oozed from his stance and the very, very old eyes that stared out of his thin face.

“You’re a bit short to be Death. And a bit better fed.”

“The anthropomorphic personification you are accustomed too is taking a little break. I’m filling in for him.”

Vimes looked at Rincewind who just shrugged in response. Who was going to argue with a seven foot skeleton if he wanted to take a day off? 

“Fine, since you’re here, make yourself useful. Any suggestions for dealing with that thing?”

Vimes jabbed his thumb in the general direction of the street behind him. The way Rincewind’s eyes went as large as saucers was his first hint. The way that the skin on his back squirmed and crawled was his second. The mildly interested look on the face of the stand in Death confirmed it.

“It’s right behind me isn’t it?”

Sam Vimes turned slowly and saw the slobbering hound prowl into the alley mouth. A scant ten feet separated them. Even Rincewind didn’t have time to react as the beast leapt.

There was a strange twisting sensation and instead of the hound getting bigger as it bore down on them, it appeared to shrink. Vimes instinctively caught the small bundle of fur that landed feather light on his chest. He found himself looking down in the brown eyes of a white Chihuahua. The tiny dog was wearing a pink Ankhstone collar, which possibly explained the look of embarrassment on its features.

“What just happened?”

Vimes looked at Rincewind who rapidly shook his head. The temporary Death strode over and plucked the furry bundle from Vimes’ arms.

“I happened. This creature shouldn’t be here. I’ll return it to its owner. Might I suggest that you ensure the wizards do not repeat the experimental magic that summoned this beast?”

He gave Rincewind a stern look, as if he was somehow a guilty part of whatever the idiots in the HEM building had been getting up to. The wizard just nodded quickly and babbled.

“The Librarian has already told them not to do it again. He was not happy when that thing got into the Library.”

Vimes had seen the 300 pound Orangutan ‘not happy’ once or twice before. He’d be surprised if those crazy student wizards were capable of remembering their own names, never mind the spell they had used. The Death in front of them gave a nastily knowing smile and tipped his head to them.

“Gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure.”

With that he disappeared from view. Vimes waved his arm in the space he had occupied before shrugging. He wasn’t sure if the thin man had been Death, but his streets when now dog-monster free so he was happy.

 

Death watched unseen as the two men left the alley and got on with their day bickering about how they were going to explain this to the Patrician. There was something refreshing about their approach to the unusual. Perhaps it came from living on a world where magic was everywhere. They didn't ask questions, or need to be persuaded out of their disbelief and they didn't wrap themselves in angst. It would be nice if the Winchesters took a similar view. The Chihuahua in his arms yipped.

“Yes, let’s get you back to Crowley. Curry Gardens will have to wait until next time.”

Death returned the hell Chihuahua to Crowley who raised a disbelieving eyebrow, but had the sense not to ask any questions. The King of Hell snapped his fingers and turned the handbag sized dog back into its true monstrous form, sans pink glittery collar. The mutt sulked in its kennel for a week until Crowley gave in and conjured a pink rhinestone collar for it. There was a sharp increase in collected souls whose last mortal words were “What the fu….”


End file.
